Cowl
by Jacksaw
Summary: Batman is dead, and Gotham needs her Knight. Damian, Tim and Dick discuss who will become the next Bats. Jason, being Jason listens from the roof. And he's way less than happy with the results. (Jason centric. Interpret this thing as you want.) R&R!


It's cold tonight.

Of course, it's always cold in Gotham. But he'd never felt this cold before. Hell, this is a new feeling to him.

Jason kneels, careful not to poke himself with his guns. (Once is enough, believe me.) He presses his hand to his ear. He'd hacked the Batcomputer, activated the built-in microphone and programmed it to transport the live audio to his helmet. The wireless device hums, and he waits for the sound to kick in.

_"**Where is Drake?" Pacing.**_

**_"Calm down, Dami. He's not that late."_**

He has no idea what he's even doing out here, freezing his butt off. With the audio, he could be at home.

_"**Grayson, this is typical Drake be**__**havior. He should be punished."**_

**_"Be fair, Damian. You just don't like him."_**

That makes two of us.

Jason shivers, wrapping his jacket tighter. Leather looks good, but is horrible at keeping out the cold. He wonders how the rest of the Bats are right now. Steph is probably patrolling with Cass, with Babs coordinating, the Replacement's speeding towards the Wayne Manor, and of course Damien and Dick are at the Batcave.

Why the fuck is the Batcave so cold anyway? It's the HQ, not the prison hold. It's freezing 24/7, enough for Jason to, feeling adventurous, drag his blanket all the way down, so he could be warm during the briefing. Of course, Bruce had made him drag it back. Nightwing helped, he remembers.

Nightwing. No one's ever cold with Nightwing around. The guy just exudes warmth. And the way he's so happy, and so dang _nice_... It's freaky. But in a nice way.

_"**Drake. Finally."**_

**_"Some of us have school, Damian."_**

Right. The whole conversation he came for.

**_"Its pointless, anyway. Bruce isn't dead."_**

_**"Tim I know you-"**_

_**"Are delusional to believe anyone could have survived."**_

_**"Damia-"**_

_**"He's not just anyone. He's Batman!"**_

_**"Bruce is still human, Tim. He can die."**_

_**"No! I don't believe he has!"**_

_**"Hallucinations are common signs of-"**_

_**"Damian!"**_

_**"If you're going to just, turn your back on Bruce-"**_

_**"Tim! We're not-"**_

_**"You're not? What do you call this, then?"**_

_**"Gotham still needs her Knight."**_

_**"Bruce is the Knight of Gotham! You can't just take the mantle cause he's disappeared!"**_

_**"Drake. Father is dead. I am aware of-"**_

_**"You little son of a-"**_

_**"Tim!"**_

_**"This is your father we're talking about! Aren't you going to at least look for him-"**_

_**"Tim. We've looked everywhere. He's not in Gotham."**_

_**"Then search outside Gotham. He's got to be somewhere, doesn't he?"**_

Ah, this conversation. Jason adjusts himself until he's more comfortable. (Note that it's very relative.) They had been at it for weeks, meeting up to discuss who would take up the mantle named Bats, now that Bruce was dead. It hasn't yielded results, usually ending with Damian and the Replacement yelling at each other, and Replacement denying Bruce's death.

He stretches, feeling his legs slightly numb. He doesn't care who became the new Bats, nor is he going to crash this party. He's just here to check out who the new opponent would be. He doesn't care if his either of his replacements are to become forever cloaked in that insane cloak of Bats'.

_**"This conversation is repetitive."**_

_**"Only because you keep denying Bruce is alive."**_

_**"We saw his body, Drake! He's dead as a doornail."**_

_**"We saw Jason's body! But he's still running around Gotham shooting up bad guys."**_

Or crouched on your roof, listening in to your conversation.

_**"He is only alive because Superboy Prime punched a hole in reality."**_

_**"What's your point?"**_

_**"In case you haven't noticed, there is no convenient Superboy nearby. Or I am lead to believe."**_

_**"Hey! What do you mean-"**_

_**"Damian!"**_

_**"What, Grayson?"**_

_**"Stop it. Arguing gets us nowhere."**_

He could testify for that.

_**"We're here to talk about the Cowl, and who's going to become the new Batman."**_

_**"We know this, Grayson."**_

_**"Well, count me out. Bruce isn't dead, even if you've all given up on him."**_

_**"Drake, I know that you are a delusional idiot, with an atrocious vocabulary, but really, this is dumb even for you."**_

_**"Why are you so sure Bruce is dead?"**_

_**"Why are you so sure he's not?"**_

_**"He's Batman, Robin. He's survived worse."**_

_**"He's only human. He's vulnerable."**_

Jason had pretty much zoned by the point.

* * *

><p><em>He's terrified.<em>

_Not of his assailant, even if he had been sitting on his lap a few minute ago. He's terrified of Dick, which is just dumb, since Dick Grayson was one of the nicest people on Earth._

_But this wasn't Dick. This was Nightwing, and Nightwing is as scary as fuck._

_Nightwing spins past him, leaping high above the croonie heading for him (ha! Head-on approaches rarely worked on Nightwing; the guy was too fast.) Nightwing crashes down on him, one long leg straddling the poor guy's neck and rolling him forcefully forward. The guy collapses under his weight with an oof!, and goes limp. Nightwing steps off him, expression cold._

_Another croonie rushes at Nightwing (worst decision possible), too fast for Jason to mutter more of a warning than a grunt. Nightwing reacts frighteningly fast, spinning to grab his hand and twisting it behind his back like a fucked-up dance move. Jason suspects he's been following his Bat-honed instinct since he has gotten here. There was no other way in hell he could do that._

_The poor guy's eyes are practically popping out, though, bugging out of his head. He manages to swing his leg back and kick Nightwing in the knee, making the vigilante loosen his grip, just enough for him to twist his arm out of Nightwing's hold though; an impressive feat, even though absolutely in vain._

_He attacks Nightwing, he's better than the last one, but still amounting as untrained. (Jason's never going to live down getting his ass kicked by amateurs, is he?) Nightwing easily dodges his punch, and returns with a elbow in the face, followed by a sucker-punch._

_Jason frowns, though watching the guy double over, clutching his stomach was enjoyable. Dick was fighting dirty, street fighting. He wasn't paying the least attention to where his hits landed, whether they effectively subdued his opponent or not. He was reacting, taking advantage of short term possibilities rather than long term ones._

_Nightwing smashes into the man's head from the side, making him loose his balance and topple. Nightwing then proceeds to throw him into the wall. Jason swears he hears the crack! of a bone breaking. The man's eyes roll to the back of his head, and he slides off the wall, faceplanting._

_Nightwing ties up both of the men, perhaps using a little more force than necessary. He finishes, hauling them over to Jason's chair. Where he's still trussed up like a fucking Christmas turkey. Humiliation!_

_Nightwing doesn't comment, and kneels down behind Jason to work on his ropes. Jason flinches; he can still see Nightwing kicking the criminals' butts hard. He will never admit it, though. Thankfully Nightwing doesn't notice; or if he did, he just ignored it._

_Nightwing leans forward, his hands still flying across the knots. His breath is warm in Jason's ear. It tickles. "You okay, Jaybird?" His words are as gentle as always, holding none of the scary indifference from before._

_"Yeah," he manages, salvaging whatever's left of his dignity. Except I just saw Nightwing's legendary temper in full force, and it scared the shit out of me._

_Nightwing finishes, and he flexes his wrist, feeling the blood flow freely for the first time in what felt like hours. "Thanks."_

_"Did they hurt you?" He asks. His hands ate gentle as they check his arms anyway._

_He wrenches his arm away. "No. Didn't have time."_

_Nightwing purses his lips, looking hurt, but drops the subject. "Do you need help? Supplies?"_

_"Nah. I'm good."_

_"Do you need anything at all? You could stay with me tonight if you want."_

_Oh Lord. No. He needs to get away, get away from that terrifying memory. Get away from the terrifying idea that Dick, Dick could be so ruthless, so cold, so... Batman._

_That, more than anything, or anyone he ever faced, scared the fuck out of him._

* * *

><p><em><strong>"Its up to me, then."<strong>_

Jason raises his head as Dick's voice resonates the helmet.

_**"I'll have to be the new Batman."**_

Oka- wait, what? No way in fucking hell!

_**"Grayson, you are among the least suited of persons for this job."**_

_**"For once I agree the devil spawn."**_

_**"Though, Drake, I appreciate your support, and your long overdue admittence of me being right, you have no need to address me as devil spawn."**_

_**"Then who do you think should be Batman, Damian?"**_

_**"I think-"**_

_**"No, Damian listen for once. Tim has outright refused, there's no way Jason would follow the rules, and you're too young. I'm the only logical choice."**_

_**"I am not too young!"**_

_**"Yes you are, Dami. You're twelve, for Lord's sake!"**_

**_"Sorry, DS. I have to agree with Dick."_**

**_"DS?"_**

**_"It means-"_**

**_"I don't care. Grayson cannot be Batman."_**

Yes! Tell him Damian!

**_"I don't want to be Batman anymore than you want me to, Dami. How about when you're old enough, I'll go back to being Nightwing, and you can be Batman?"_**

**_"Admittedly, the proposal sounds logical."_**

**_"Is that a yes?"_**

**_"Very well."He knew the new_**

Aw, c'mon! The universe was just fucking with him.

He shuts off the audio, his head spinning as he rose. He needs to run, to fly from building to building without a fear of falling.

No, what he needs is to is prevent Dick from becoming Bats.

That's one thing that's clear in his mind. The rest are just a swirling blizzard of emotions, the way it always has been around his extremely messed-up family.

As always ,the dominating feeling is anger. He decides to focus on that. It's easier. Anger at Tim, for refusing the Bat mantle. Anger at Damian for giving up so easily. Anger at Joker, who drove him away from the rest of the Bats. Anger at Bruce, for dying and leaving them to clean up his mess. Anger at Dick, for being so nice, volunteering to throw himself off the pit to save everyone else.

He hates that kindness, the compassion that, of all the Bats, belongs to Dick and Dick alone. He hates it, because it makes him vulnerable, weak. It's so _easy_ to take advantage of the unfailing kindness and destroy him, or use him to hurt someone. He had done that himself, tried to murder Dick to hurt Bruce, trying to prove that he was better than Golden Boy.

He remembers the scars running all over Dick's body. How many of them were because he stupidly rushes forward to save a random passerby, or even a criminal? Dick's a smart kid, Jason knows that. He _must_ understand how dangerous his actions were.

Becoming Batman will stop the fucking _reckless_ behavior.

_So why the fuck is Jason still doing this?_

Because he's afraid. He isn't scared of Nightwing anymore, though. He's scared of that cold, soulless, _Bat_-like gleam in his eyes. For a small moment, so many years ago, it looked like Dick had lost himself, allowing his cold and violent side out unrestrained, not cushioned by his usual gentleness and hesitation to hurt and kill.

Batman was driven by his love of justice, Tim too. Jason himself was driven by revenge and anger. Damian was in partly for the thrill, for his love to his father, and revenge.

Dick was in it for others.

He had put on the costume to seek revenge, like they all had, but it was his love that kept it on. His belief that everyone deserved a chance, that no one should be hurt, not even the villains. While the rest of the Bats focused on saving the Earth from supervillains, or alien invasions, Nightwing's job was to protect her people, offering support that none of the others seemed incapable of, based on a finely-honed instinct that the rest had shut out for a clear head that understood _priorities_. It was this love that made him so diffrent, made him stand out (other than his ridiculously loud clothes). It was this love, this hope to outgrow the scars that made up their lives, that made him something to look up to.

He was their hope, for all of them. The unfailing bright spot in a world of darkness and blood, the hand you could always reach out for. He was the beacon, proof that they could be diffrent, they didn't have to become cold and as much of a jackass as Bats.

Making him put on the Bat mantle, however temporary, was just dumping the cape on the candle that was Dick. The others knew this extremely well. They knew the risks, that their bright spot could disappear for a while. The minute we take away the mantle, they assured themselves, Dick would just pop up in all his fire and warmth, like nothing had ever happened. Jason knew that was probably true.

Keyword being _probably_.

They didn't know just how easily the flame could be smothered. He did. He had seen it.

If they let Dick into the darkness of the Bat, he'llnever come back.

He couldn't let them destroy his, _their_ hope. He needed it. It was the light that guided him through the darkness, the warmth that kept them all warm, the restrain that kept him from murdering every petty muggler. Without Dick, they would give up to their darkness. _He_ would give up to his demons.

He couldn't let that happen.

His feet lands on the roof of Wayne Manor, and he rolls, releasing some of the momentum. He activates the camera. The armour is... There! Right next to the enterance.

Getting to the Batcave was easy. Alfred's nowhere to be seen, but judging by the drifting scent of apples, he is baking. And without Bruce watching the cameras like a hawk, he doesn't have to worry about them either.

Stepping cautiously down the hidden stairs (so cliche), he clicks on the audio. Instantly it comes.

_**"So sixteen it is?"**_

_**"Agreed."**_

_**"I don't know what you're thinking Dick. This kid will just-"**_

_**"Watch your words, Drake."**_

Hey, look! Clear opening!

He dashes forward, smashing through the glass. The Bats spin around. Nightwing's face is a strange mixture of concern, joy, exasperation, and anger. The Replacement just looks shocked. Ha!

He grabs the black armoured cloak, pulling the costume through the shattered glass to him. He rushes to the staircase. Then he turns and winks; he couldn't help it. "Think I'll be needing this. Thanks for keeping it save!"

* * *

><p><strong>I don't like this thing. But it's not going to get any better, so... But don't you just love writing about insecure guys who come to uncomfortable realizations?<strong>

**Well, hope you liked this! R&R!**


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